


Under the Moon

by palepinkpores



Series: Light [2]
Category: The Fall (TV 2013), The X-Files
Genre: Bisexual Dana Scully, Childbirth, F/F, Family Fluff, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24698041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palepinkpores/pseuds/palepinkpores
Summary: Stella and Scully await the arrival of their baby, who, unbeknown to them, is planning to make a dramatic entrance.
Relationships: Stella Gibson/Dana Scully
Series: Light [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920700
Comments: 119
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a prompt on Tumblr requesting that Scully delivers a baby rather than give birth herself, so I took inspiration and tentatively wrote this. There will be more chapters to come, so please let me know what you think!

She knew it made sense. It made sense for her to carry. It had made sense from the word go. She was younger for a start. Then, there was the matter of her health, which had always been impeccable. She was also the most physically fit of the pair; up until three months ago she had frequented the pool at least four evenings a week. Until two weeks ago, she had still managed two to three evenings a week, though her pace had decreased significantly as the months had progressed. She point-blank refused to attend the Puddle Ducks Aquanatal classes, which were advertised on the garish covers of the leaflets attached to the changing room notice board.

This week, however, it made absolutely no sense at all. In fact, it was ridiculous.

Her back felt like it was splintering. Her bladder control had become a cruel joke. Her centre of gravity was off and she was frequently having to use inanimate objects and, to her utter mortification, other people, to steady herself. And the lack of sleep was really beginning to get to her now. She was used to functioning on a few scarce hours a night when she took on particularly demanding cases, but this type of fatigue and discomfort was like nothing she had ever experienced.

Much to her downright distain, she had been placed on ‘lighter duties’ at work as her pregnancy progressed and had spent the last month behind a desk: bored, unstimulated, miserable. She had begun her maternity leave three days ago but only because her superiors had insisted, having found her dozing at that godforsaken desk twice in a single afternoon.

The beginning of her maternity leave coincided with a particularly fervent bout of nesting. Stella spent hours on her hands and knees, scrubbing every inch of their London townhouse whilst arranging and rearranging their expectant nursery. The crib sheets were washed and rewashed along with the impossibly tiny sleep suits, onesies, vests, leggings, socks, hats, mittens, blankets and towels. Each time Stella fretted over whether they would be soft enough for the delicate skin of their yet-to-be-born, or whether they needed another wash. She always opted for the latter and thus the cycle continued.

She had just straightened from filling their dryer with another load of the baby’s washing when she felt another twinge in her back, she hummed along with the discomfort and pressed her eyebrows together in a grimace. Seconds passed and she relaxed, rubbing the underside of her bump restlessly, immediately pushing any early labour related hopes firmly to one side.

It would be ridiculous to even imagine her labour beginning today, eight days before her due date. Her first baby would certainly not arrive on time, let alone ahead of schedule. Knowing her luck, it would be two weeks overcooked and the size of a budding sumo wrestler when the big day arrived, undoubtedly having to be coaxed out with copious amounts of Pitocin and the dreaded forceps.

She was startled out of her ruminating by the sound of the front door clicking shut, followed by heels clacking along the wooden flooring, through the hallway and into their spacious kitchen. Stella turned in time to see Scully entering and depositing her work bag and two large, reusable shopping bags onto the table with a series of heavy thuds.

“Hey,” Scully chimed, exhausted but elated to be home. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

Stella remained in the small nook of the utility room, feeling slightly disorientated.

“I’m fine,” she replied, unconvincingly.

“Are you sure?” Scully continued, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you come sit and I’ll finish up in there?” Scully suggested.

“I’m fine,” Stella insisted, pressing the start button on the dryer to emphasise just how fine she was.

“Alright, what would you like for dinner?”

Scully knew very well when to pick her battles and when to let things lie, and wisely decided to change the subject immediately.

“I’m not hungry,” Stella answered, eyeing the shopping bags curiously.

“I shopped on my way home and bought anything you could possibly want,” Scully tempted with a grin. “I know you’ve had a little trouble deciding recently, so I got everything. All of your current favourites.”

Stella had experienced cravings for many strange and wonderful combinations of foods, with each month seeming to bring new yearnings and repulsions. At times, her tastes changed quicker than Scully could stock the cupboards. One day she would cry over running out of a particular brand of cottage cheese and the next, she would be reduced to a gagging, spluttering wreck at the mere sight of the packaging.

Stella crossed the room and peered into one of the canvas totes: olives, gravy granules, noodles, anchovies, sausages, Wotsits, a variety of soups, Pink Lady apples, mushy peas, Polo mints, white, milk and dark chocolate, iceberg lettuce, jelly, lemons, alcohol-free lager, crumpets, ice cream, Cheerios, steak. Scully had done very well.

“May I have tomato soup and a burnt cheese toastie?” Stella asked shyly.

“You may,” Scully grinned.

She walked around the table and kissed Stella tenderly on the cheek, rubbing wide, firm circles over her heavily swollen midsection. Scully was wary about devoting the lion’s share of her attention to the baby, rather than fully acknowledging Stella. This was a mistake she had already made that had caused great upset to her partner, who was at the mercy of her fluctuating hormones and severe mood swings.

“Go get yourself comfortable and I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready,” Scully soothed, planting a soft kiss on her lips before they parted.

“Make sure you burn the toastie, Dana,” Stella instructed as she left the room. “I need it to be completely black all over.”

“You got it,” Scully laughed, shooing her out with a wave of her hand as she started to unpack the shopping.

She grinned to herself as she watched Stella retreat to the living room, knowing that every fibre of her being was devoted to preventing herself from waddling, though she failed entirely. The baby was now too low for even Stella’s stubborn will to prevent the curse of the stereotypical gait.

***

Within twenty minutes, the two women were on the couch eating and watching a documentary about the Maasai people. Scully delicately dipped a slice of brown wholemeal bread into her bowl of tomato soup, her legs curled beneath her, a blanket covering the lower half of her body. Stella, on the other hand, had eased herself back into the mountain of strategically placed couch cushions behind her and was using her singed toastie to collect the very last drops of her soup. Her cardigan had been discarded and the sleeves of her long-sleeved top had been pushed over her elbows impatiently. A freestanding fan was positioned next to her, pointing directly at her face. 

“Aren’t you hot?” she implored as she set her empty bowl and plate on the end table by the fan.

“Actually, I’m freezing,” Scully chuckled. “Feel.”

She held out her free hand and watched as, having taken it in her own clammy palm, Stella looked at her incredulously.

“Unbelievable,” Stella huffed, shifting uncomfortably.

“How about a cool bath once I’ve cleaned up? It’ll make you feel better.”

“Bloody unlikely,” Stella scowled. “I’ve hated every second of this.”

“Don’t say that, there’s got to be one part of pregnancy you’ve at least found tolerable.”

“Nothing. I’ve hated it all,” Stella stubbornly insisted.

Scully placed her own empty plate and bowl on the carpeted floor and carefully slid over to Stella, ensuring she didn’t disturb the back support that her cushions offered.

“I know you love feeling our baby move. Don’t lie and tell me it’s not the most incredible experience of your life,” Scully said delicately. “Trust me, I know.”

“Mmm, maybe,” Stella agreed, running a hand over the expanse of stomach, unable to believe how huge she’d become.

“And that second trimester sex was definitely something special…” Scully persisted, biting her lip as she met Stella’s eye.

“I hope you’ve committed it to memory because it’ll be a long time before I’m in any fit state to do that again,” Stella sighed, shifting awkwardly so she could rest her head on Scully’s shoulder.

Ridiculously, she found herself sobbing.

“Oh,” Scully hummed with an understanding smile. “Don’t worry about that.”

She maneuvered Stella closer and wrapped her arms around her.

“Believe it or not, I’m not just in this for the sex,” she whispered into her hair, grinning slyly. “I actually really like you and think we should commit to each other, you know, take our relationship to the next level.”

Stella scoffed and grinned back at Scully, despite herself.

“I’m a mess,” she mumbled, covering her face with her hand.

“You’re perfect,” Scully corrected. “You’re growing us a baby and you need to cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so wrapped up in myself, I don’t think about anyone or anything else. I haven’t even asked you how your day was.”

“My day was just fine,” Scully reassured her. “I spend most of my time at work counting down the hours until I can come home to the two of you anyway.”

Stella sighed and wiped her face on her sleeve.

“How’s your day been?” Scully continued.

“Uneventful,” Stella grumbled. “Lacklustre. Boring.”

“Not for much longer now,” Scully soothed. “Our baby will be here before we know it.”

“I hope so because I am never doing this again. You’re having the next one.”

Stella moved out of Scully’s embrace and, with a gargantuan effort on the part of both women, was on her feet and slowly waddling her way to the bathroom. Scully relaxed into the sofa as she watched her go, grinning shamelessly at the thought of a ‘next one’ already being on Stella’s mind. Stella, the woman who was once so utterly tender with the children of others but so adamant that she had no desire for any of her own, was now imagining a future that Scully herself had always dreamed of.


	2. Chapter 2

“How’s that?”

“Perfect.”

Stella exhaled and arched her back with an appreciative groan as she sunk down into the lukewarm depths of their freestanding, clawfoot bath. Scully had been careful to fill it so that the water almost completely submerged Stella but was still at a depth at which she could keep her footing whilst relaxing fully. She hadn’t added any salts or bubble bath as she knew their scents had a habit of lingering in their ensuite and turning Stella’s stomach in the middle of the night. She had, however, provided a very welcome treat in the form of a bowl of freshly sliced lemon wedges.

“Oh my fucking god,” Stella moaned almost sensually when Scully revealed the delicacy.

Scully laughed as she offered her the bowl and Stella immediately identified the largest wedge and stuck it in her mouth, closing her eyes in ecstasy and allowing the juice to drip down her chin and into the water. She sighed contentedly, continuing to suck on the mouthful of lemon and gazing up at Scully with the doe eyes of an indulgent child.

“You are so beautiful,” Scully said, running her fingers through Stella’s blonde curls.

“Mmm,” Stella sighed after removing the wedge of lemon from her mouth briefly. “This is so good.”

“I’m glad I got it right this time,” Scully teased, referring a series of mishaps that had occurred over the course of Stella’s pregnancy, involving Scully misinterpreting the preparation of Stella’s most craved food items and the emotional turmoil that followed.

She used the pad of her thumb to remove a drizzle of lemon juice from the corner of Stella’s mouth and shivered slightly at the bitterness as she sucked the juice from her skin.

“I’m glad you did too, for your own sake more than anything,” Stella retorted with a smirk.

They remained in the bathroom for over an hour. Stella reclined in the bath and made her way steadily through the bowl of lemon wedges, without even wincing at the sourness that she desperately craved. Scully sat on the tiled floor and used a jug to pour water over the peak of Stella’s round stomach, rubbed her swollen feet, traced her scars with her fingertips, stroked her hair. They chatted quietly about the operations that Scully had performed that day and the student doctor that she had been asked to mentor once she returned to work after her imminent parental leave. Stella ran through a list of all the jobs she absolutely needed to get done around the house before the baby was born and shared her plans for yet another rearrangement of the nursery. Without question, Scully promised her she would move the furniture that very weekend and help her reorganise the baby’s clothes, this time by colour rather than by type of garment.

***

“Maybe we can take a trip somewhere once the baby’s born,” Scully suggested as they climbed into bed.

Stella used her forearms to lower herself back onto the mattress but had to unwillingly admit defeat when the strain became too much and collapsed, ungainly, beached, beside her.

“Go away somewhere,” she parroted, her physical discomfort evident in the strain of her tone.

Stella rolled heavily onto her side that faced Scully, arched an eyebrow and looked at her, utterly unenamoured with the idea.

“I don’t mean right away,” Scully clarified. “But when the baby’s, say, six months old and we’ve gotten the hang of everything, we could go somewhere… I don’t know, like Scotland or Wales. A small cabin in the country, walks in the woods, swimming in the lake…”

“We’ll see,” Stella dismissed quickly.

She winced as the baby delivered a sharp series of kicks to the underside of her ribs; he or she was becoming increasingly more active at night time, much to Stella’s dismay.

“Let’s see how it goes and make a decision nearer the time,” Scully decided, rubbing soothing circles over Stella’s abdomen, and helping her settle into the arms of her pregnancy pillow.

Scully flicked off her bedside lamp and they lay facing each other in the darkness, an arm’s reach between them. She had wisely learned to give Stella plenty of her own space in their king-size four poster and often slept right on the very edge of the bed. Meanwhile Stella would contort into all kinds of positions behind her, stacking and restacking her many pillows, coiling herself around her pregnancy pillow, in what always turned out to be futile attempts at achieving comfort and a good night’s sleep.

Scully reached across the mattress and ran her fingertips slowly up and down Stella’s muscular bicep, attempting to lull her, sensing her restlessness. They wordlessly caressed each other’s arms, stomachs, thighs and eventually drifted off to sleep.

***

Stella leant forward over the kitchen counter. She draped her chest over its surface and rested her clammy forehead against the cool marble, finding momentary relief. The twinges in her back were at a ten and unrelenting, it had been impossible for her to remain in bed. In the kitchen, she had the hardness of the wooden flooring beneath her feet and plenty of steady surfaces to lean on and rock against. She also didn’t have to worry about waking Scully if she felt the desire to moan along with the pain; she had shut every door between them. Stella did briefly consider another bath, but she knew it was warm water only that would soothe her back when it ached this much, and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to stand the heat. She felt as if she was on fire.

Slowly, she made her way across the kitchen. Walking had become a chore and it felt like she was wading through a pot of deep, thick treacle when she sluggishly put one foot in front of the other. Stella wrenched open a cupboard at random and emptied it of its contents. She cleaned its insides and outsides, including the handle and sorted through the plates and bowls it contained, anything that was chipped went in the bin.

It was just after five o’clock when Stella sensed she was no longer alone and turned to see a pyjama-clad Scully standing in the doorway, watching her.

“How long have you been up?” Scully asked, not bothering to turn on the light, as the sunrise had begun to illuminate their glimmering kitchen.

“A few hours,” Stella admitted. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, Stella,” Scully sympathised. “Have you been in the dark?”

“I can’t put the light on, it’s too bright,” she replied, simply.

“Okay,” Scully sighed, accepting that Stella was content and unwilling to provoke and argument. “Do you want some tea?”

She crossed over to the kettle, filled it and flicked it to boil.

“No,” Stella eventually replied, turning back to the selection of tins in front of her, continuing to check the expiry dates and organising them accordingly. Everything that was long dated went at the back, with the tinned contents that needed earlier consumption in front of them.

Scully made and drunk her coffee silently, watching as Stella organised meticulously yet paused every two to three minutes to rub irritably at her lower back, swaying from side to side as she did so.

“Are you alright?” Scully tried.

“Fine,” Stella said without turning round. “As normal as I could be, considering my current situation.”

“I’m going to get ready for work so call me if you need me,” Scully instructed.

“Why would I need to do that?” Stella tutted, waving her hand dismissively as she concentrated on scrubbing a particularly stubborn spot on the side of one of the tins.

Scully smiled knowingly and left her to it without a word. She decided she would give her iPhone to the receptionist to keep an eye on today, just in case Stella needed to call.


	3. Chapter 3

Stella sat at the table in the kitchen typing so forcefully at her laptop that it was a wonder that she didn’t puncture the keys. At her uncompromisable assertion, she was being kept in the loop via email about all the goings on at the Met and she couldn’t tear herself away. The radio in the background jingled, introducing the eight o’clock news and she sat back in her chair, a cup of decaf coffee in her hand, to listen.

The baby rolled around contentedly within her, seemingly stimulated by her consumption of a hot drink, and she stroked the areas of her stomach where the little hands, elbows and feet protruded. She put her cup down on the table with a clunk as the weather jingle played and heaved a sigh. She was bored.

After Scully had left a mere hour and a half ago, imploring her to “call if anything happens”, she had finished her blitz of the kitchen and reorganised the baby’s wardrobe herself, before dressing for the day and delving into her emails. There was a book by Hanya Yanagihara she had been eager to read for a while, but she was purposely putting it off after reading reviews about how utterly devastating it was said to be. Lord knew, she was emotional enough.

After heaving herself to standing and establishing her balance, Stella wandered into the living room and approached another book she had been avoiding, something she couldn’t really afford to evade for much longer. She looked down at the front cover, the relaxing, approachable pastel colours and the assurance that, by reading this book, her way of looking at birth would be completely changed. Stella was unconvinced.

She had never come close to attending a birth herself, or even been around many pregnant people other than colleagues at work, though, as she found out the hard way, they were whisked away before the advanced stages of gestation hit. Scully had suggested that they attend the antenatal classes at their local hospital and then visit the nearby birthing centre to explore all their options and meet other expectant mothers. Stella had immediately declined, confidently claiming that it was nothing she couldn’t research for herself, though she had been putting that off too.

She took a deep breath and made herself comfortable on the couch with the book and began to read.

***

When Scully arrived home that evening, Stella was stationed at the kitchen table once again, this time she was surrounded by the papers that had previously been filed in her maternity notes folder.

“Hey,” Scully greeted, partly amused, partly concerned by the frantic look on her partner’s face.

“Hi, you need to sit down and help me,” Stella ordered, her eyes wide and frenzied.

“What’s going on?” Scully asked, shrugging her coat off and hanging it on the back of the chair next to Stella’s, before sitting on it herself.

“I’m not ready,” Stella said, her voice wobbling. “I don’t have a plan; I don’t know what I want.”

“A plan for what, honey?” Scully soothed, placing a steady palm between Stella’s shoulder blades.

“The birth!” Stella exclaimed impatiently. “I haven’t planned the birth! I don’t have a birth plan to give to the midwife!”

“Okay. It’s alright. Let me take a look.”

Scully gathered the clutter of papers that buried the table and ordered them. She skimmed through to refamiliarize herself with Stella’s appointment notes, though she could remember every detail of every appointment they’d been to throughout the pregnancy. When she had finished, she set them down on the table and looked at Stella.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said. “Why don’t you let me cook us dinner and we’ll sit on the couch and discuss this once we’ve eaten.”

“Dana, we need to do this now!”

“Have you been having regular contractions today?”

“No,” Stella replied with a frown.

“Then we have time to eat, I promise you. I think you’ll feel better after some dinner and then we can do this calmly,” Scully said.

***

“So you definitely don’t want trainee doctors or midwives with us during your labour and delivery?”

“Definitely not.”

“Everyone’s got to learn though, Stella.”

“Well, they can learn on someone else. It’ll be horrific enough without a fleet of junior doctors watching me like I’m an animal at the zoo, or a midwife who looks young enough to be my daughter herself rooting through me as if she’s lost her keys.”

Scully snorted. “Okay, we won’t tick that box then…I think we’re finished here though!”

She efficiently collated and stapled the papers together and looked at Stella triumphantly.

“That didn’t take too long, did it?” she enthused. “All we need to do is pack your hospital bag and then we’re ready!”

“No… I don’t think I can do it, Dana,” Stella muttered.

They had been sitting on the couch for the past hour discussing and filling in Stella’s birth plan: considering which forms of pain relief she’d like to use, the positions she’d like to try throughout the labour and birth, whether or not she would like skin to skin contact with the baby immediately after it had been born. The list was endless, and Scully rattled through each option, injecting suggestions of her own and explaining what each stage of Stella’s labour would entail. Stella, meanwhile, nodded along with everything Scully was saying but was getting paler and paler by the minute and her need to vomit was steadily increasing.

“I don’t know what I want,” Stella said. “How can I not know? How can I not know how I want to give birth to my own baby when I’m due in a week? It’s exactly a week today, Dana!”

“You do know what you want,” Scully replied softly. “You’ve made some practical, realistic choices here and I’ll be with you through it all so all you have to do is tell me if you change your mind on the day and I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“Maybe we should have gone to those classes and watched the videos and sat on a mat and practiced the breathing…”

“We still can if that’s what you want. I can call the hospital tomorrow and get us booked in for next week.”

“No… I don’t really want to go but I don’t really want to give birth either.”

“I know you don’t,” Scully lulled as she began to rub Stella’s throbbing lower back so perfectly it made her partner’s eyes roll. “I don’t think many women do, I know I didn’t, but you’re going to be fine. You are the strongest person I know, Stella, and you just have to remember that it’s only one day. It won’t last forever but it’ll make you a mother always.”

Stella was silent for a while, closing her eyes and pushing back into Scully’s touch, feeling her anxieties slowly ease and her grit and perspective returning.

“Just one day,” she finally said. “And if I labour for longer than that, it’ll just have to stay in there forever.”

“Deal,” Scully agreed, smiling. “Has anything happened to make all of this come up? Or have you been feeling anxious for a while?”

“A little anxious but nothing unexpected. I read the birth book this morning though,” Stella admitted.

“How did that change things?”

“It made me feel inadequate. Stupid. Afraid to fuck it up. I also went online and read some forums and all the women on there, even the ones like me who have never had a baby before, know what they want and how to do everything and they were talking about things I would have never even known about if I hadn’t logged on.”

“Like what?”

“Like delayed cord clamping… I’d actually like to do that…”

“Then I’ll put it in the plan!” Scully enthused. “I’m a medical doctor, Stella, and I didn’t even think of that! It’ll be great for our baby. You shouldn’t believe everything you read online though, Detective Superintendent Gibson. I thought you of all people would know that.”

“So did I,” Stella grinned sheepishly.

“Feel better now?”

“Much better. Thank you for always saying the right things,” Stella said. “You know I love you, don’t you? Even when I’m being god awful, you know it could only be you, don’t you?”

Scully stopped massaging Stella’s back and leant in for a kiss.

“I don’t think I could love you more than I have over these last nine months,” she said, their noses pressing together as she spoke. “Even when you have been god awful.”

Stella smirked and initiated another kiss, making a point to nip Scully’s bottom lip with her teeth in retaliation.

“That’s more like it,” Scully said with a smirk, running her tongue over her own and then Stella’s lip. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?” Stella asked, easing herself back and relaxing into the couch.

“It’ll be Saturday and I’m not on call so the day’s ours. I think it’ll be good to get you out of the house.”

Stella considered the idea of leaving the safe haven of their home briefly, and was about to dismiss it, when Scully made a suggestion.

“What about the pool?” she said. “We could go in the evening when it’s quiet.”

Stella considered the idea. Water was where she was the most comfortable and this had always been the case, even before she became pregnant. Now she found herself heavy and cumbersome, the idea of the weightless support that the pool would offer her was particularly appealing. After her two week absence, she realised she was missing it more than she thought she would.

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” she commented, grinning. “I’ll need to go and try my costume on though, these last two weeks have not been kind.”

She rubbed her bump and, with Scully’s arm to brace herself on, hauled herself to standing and headed upstairs.

“Who knows,” Stella called over her shoulder. “We might even get the pool to ourselves.”


	4. Chapter 4

Much to Stella’s delight they did, in fact, have the cold, tiled hall of the swimming pool to themselves. The Saturday night adults only session was not a popular slot on the timetable, which suited them perfectly. The watery blue rectangle glowed internally as the two women swum past each other from opposite ends, completing their own sets at their own paces. Scully opted for a medley of front crawl and butterfly, while Stella decided on some gentle breaststroke at an easy pace as she knew she would become breathless very quickly otherwise.

After nearly half an hour of lengths, they met in the shallows and leaned over the edge, side by side, facing each other with their cheeks resting on their forearms. Scully knelt on the tiles beneath them, while Stella floated, her legs out straight behind her, enjoying the buoyancy that the water treated her to.

“How was that?” Scully asked.

“Heavenly,” Stella replied. “I really needed it.”

“I’m glad,” Scully smiled, ridding herself of her goggles.

“It’s done my back and hips the world of good,” Stella continued.

“How do you feel, any unusual activity from the little one?”

Scully turned so that she was now sitting in the shallows, leaning against the pool wall, and moved closer to where Stella was half floating to run her palm over her stomach.

“Nothing unusual,” Stella said. “The baby’s actually clamed right down after all the rolling around in the car, I think the water has relaxed them.”

“That’s good. The chlorine might help you sleep tonight too.”

“I hope so,” Stella smiled softly. “I think I could fall asleep here, actually.”

Scully shifted closer and kissed her shoulder.

“Home?” she offered.

“Yes please.”

Scully stood in the water and retrieved both of their goggles from the poolside before helping Stella to her feet and following her up the incline of the pool steps, a protective hand on her hip to steady her as they ascended. They showered together, alone in the changing rooms, and dressed quickly, debating through the walls of their neighbouring stalls about which takeaway to pick up on their way home. Stella’s cravings took priority and not twenty five minutes later, she was balancing a large order from their favourite Indian restaurant in her now very limited lap space.

“What’s your earliest memory?” Scully asked her as they settled on the couch, balancing her plate on a cushion.

Stella chewed thoughtfully on a piece of chicken from her madras curry, her fork hovering absently in the air by her cheek.

“I think, possibly… sitting on the grass, in the leaves at the park and reading “Anne of Green Gables”. I was probably around eleven… I used to stop and sit in the same place every day, if the weather was nice, on my way home from school. That’s probably my earliest memory, though eleven’s a little old… there must be something earlier than that.”

“I always wonder,” Scully said. “How much I really remember about my own childhood, rather than the lives of the children I’ve seen in movies or read books about. Sometimes those memories of those children’s lives seep into my memories of my own childhood and I retell their stories as my own when they’re not. I don’t realise I’ve done it until someone points it out to me.”

“It is interesting,” Stella mused. “It sometimes happens if witnesses confer with each other because they convince themselves they’ve seen something when they haven’t, they were actually just told about it by someone else. Which fucks everything up for us, of course.”

“There must be a name for it,” Scully contemplated.

“I’m surprised you don’t know,” Stella said, biting into her large slab of naan bread. “What about you? What’s your earliest memory?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Scully replied. “Playing under the Christmas tree with Charlie when I was maybe four years old or just under. I don’t know what we were playing, we could have been re-enacting the story of Jesus’ birth…we used to do that a lot, even when it wasn’t Christmas. Anyway, Bill thought it would be hilarious to push the tree over and onto us and Melissa screamed like a cat because she thought he’d killed us both. Mom was furious.”

“Wow,” Stella said. “How was Melissa after that? I suppose it could have been quite traumatic for her…”

“Maybe,” Scully answered, her mouth full. “To be honest, I don’t think we ever spoke about it, so I doubt she remembered, but it always stood out to me.”

“Mmm,” Stella nodded, watching as Scully helped herself to more rice from the banquet that was set out on their coffee table. “I would love to have met her.”

“She would have adored you,” Scully smiled sadly.

Stella curled her fingers through Scully’s, stroking the top of her pointer finger comfortingly with her own as they both turned their attention back to the TV and the evening showing of All About Eve. They were each lost in their own thoughts and thus payed minimal attention to Bette Davis’ monologue.

Scully had given up her life in Washington, her job, her family, her friends, and moved to London all for Stella. It had happened two years after they met, when the long periods of separation, intermingled with the countless hours of transatlantic travel, started to do more than take its toll on them both.

At first, Scully’s family had been unconvinced that their long-distanced relationship would last longer than six months. When it surpassed that and hit the eighteen month mark, they could see how truly infatuated Scully was with Stella. Having only met Stella a handful of times themselves, they found her, after some initial reservations, to be a match perfect for Scully. They met and challenged each other intellectually, their work was similar but different enough that they could each take a genuine interest in the other person’s day, and they both had a unique understanding of exactly why one must sometimes dedicate their life to their job. This was something Scully had done from the beginning of her career but, since she met Stella, her loved ones had noticed a shift in her priorities and watched as Scully began to live for something other than her work, for the first time in years.

Scully had been apprehensive about introducing Stella to her mother and brothers and Stella had been apprehensive to meet them. She guessed immediately that Scully had had a traditional Catholic upbringing just from the cross she wore around her neck and, having grown up and remained faithless, it was a world in which Stella had little understanding of. Then, there was the matter of Maggie’s only living daughter entering into a relationship with another woman. Before Stella met the Scullys for the first time, Dana had prepared her for the fact that her mother and oldest brother weren’t fully on board. Charlie, on the other hand, had welcomed her with enough enthusiasm to compensate for them all. By the end of their first dinner with an unusually shy and nervous Stella, the Scully family knew for a fact that it was right, even if some of them didn’t fully agree with the pairing.

***

Stella woke with a jolt to the sound of a gunshot, her hand flying protectively to the baby. The film that they had fallen asleep watching had finished and been replaced by an old Western. Clint Eastwood fired what Stella identified as a Colt Single Action Army revolver and masterfully rode his horse to safety amidst the disgruntled shouts of his opponents. With a moan, she pulled herself up to sitting from where she had slumped against the arm of the couch and groaned at the increasing intensity of the ache in her lower back, rubbing away at it with furious vigour.

Scully was still asleep on the other side of the couch, mouth open and snoring softly, oblivious to the fact that it was quarter to one in the morning. Stella sighed at the mess of empty takeaway containers and dirty plates in front of them but, as she turned off the television with the remote control, she decided that she would clean them up in the morning. She softly stroked Scully’s calf in a bid to wake her up, her gentle touch turning to a firm shake when she didn’t immediately open her eyes.

“Hmm?” Scully grunted as she was roused. “What time is it?”

She blinked as she registered the fact that they were still in the living room and she had been asleep for some time.

“Nearly one,” Stella replied. “Let’s go to bed.”

Scully nodded wordlessly and allowed herself to be led upstairs by Stella, who kept one hand firmly on the railing and reached back with the other to hold onto Scully’s fingers as they climbed. They quickly brushed their teeth but, as Scully settled into bed, she noticed that Stella had been in their bathroom for longer than usual.

“Everything okay in there?” she cautiously called from their bed.

There was a momentary silence before a strained “Fine!”

Unconvinced, Scully made her way over to the closed door and knocked softly.

“Are you sure?” she said gently.

“It’s… it’s my back!” Stella gritted out. “I can’t… it’s getting worse.”

“Okay,” Scully soothed. “You’re alright, Stell. Do you mind if I come in?”

“No, you can come in…”

Scully opened the door to reveal Stella, dressed in her pyjamas, the lid of her tub of expensive moisturiser gripped between the fingers of her left hand, stood at the sink. Her knees were slightly bent and she was swaying from side to side, using the solid porcelain to hold herself up.

“I can’t get into bed. I can’t lie down,” she said.

“Oh honey, how long has it been this bad?” Scully asked, making her way over.

“This level of pain… it’s been on and off since last week. Swimming helped but the couch didn’t.”

“You need to tell me, Stella. You look so pale,” Scully hummed, stroking Stella’s cheek.

She rubbed the remnants of the moisturiser into Stella’s pasty skin and encouraged her to lean over the sink as far as she could. She placed her hands on either side of her lower back and gradually started to apply pressure, pressing down with increasing firmness each time Stella requested for her to do so.

“Is the pain always there, or does it come in waves?” Scully asked.

“It’s intermittent. Sometimes it’s every five minutes, sometimes it’s every half an hour. Sometimes it’s not there at all, sometimes I feel it all the time.”

Stella clocked Scully’s raised eyebrow in the mirror in front of her.

“It’s not that, so don’t even suggest it,” she snapped. “I’m huge. All the extra weight is taking its toll on my body and that’s the end of it.”

“Alright,” Scully smirked. “You do need to tell me when it hurts this badly though, Stella, if only so I can relieve you a little.”

“Mmm,” Stella mumbled, noncommittedly.

Eventually, Scully managed to coax Stella into bed and arranged their pillows the provide just the right amount of support for her, leaving room for Scully to massage her partner’s aching back until she finally fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Contains mentions of self-harm, terminal illness and loss of a parent**

They’d settled on a shade called “Morning Light” for the walls, after considering the impracticality of anything lighter. The very pale yellow complimented the exposed floorboards, which were almost completely covered by a chindi rug of varying greens. A wooden rocking chair resided in the corner with a large cushion and a teddy holding space until its use was required. They had decided to have blinds fitted rather than hang curtains, for now, taking into account the effectiveness of each, and had positioned two framed black and white sketches on the far wall: one of a lion, the other of a giraffe. The chest of draws was filled with nappies and the baby’s nightwear, and had a changing mat poised for use on its surface. A shelf had been fitted above and offered the literary treasures of Beatrix Potter and E.B. White among others. The wardrobe brimmed with the baby’s clothes, hung on tiny coat hangers and in varying sizes, anticipating a birth weight of anywhere between six to ten pounds. The lightbulb was shaded and a vintage, wooden toy box was waiting to be filled in the corner.

Scully had just finished lugging the cot to its new position under the window and turned to await Stella’s verdict. It was eleven o’clock on Sunday morning and she had rearranged the nursery four times already.

“I like it,” Stella decided form the doorway.

“Great,” Scully sighed with a relieved smile. “Let’s have breakfast and then I was thinking we could go for a walk.”

“We’ll see,” Stella shrugged non-committedly, the tightening waves in her back had been almost unrelenting since she woke up, and while it felt better to walk through them, she didn’t want to venture too far from home.

They made their way downstairs and to the kitchen, where Stella started on their eggs and Scully brewed the kettle for their tea. They ate at the table and watched the squirrels play on the garden lawn. It was the most beautiful day of Spring so far that year.

“Have you decided what we’re going to do about your mom yet?” Scully asked.

“Mmm,” Stella nodded, taking a gulp of her tea. “I have been thinking about it and I just don’t think it’ll work if she stays with us after the baby’s born, for her or us. She wouldn’t ever stay with me under other circumstances… we’ve never really been like that. It was a nice idea though.”

Scully nodded, acknowledging that Stella’s relationship with her mother was difficult and complicated at the best of times, more so than her own with Maggie. The way in which they would handle her was Stella’s decision and Stella’s decision alone.

“Do you want me to call her once we know you’re definitely in labour? Or after the birth?”

“Oh, after. Definitely after. Despite everything, I think she will be concerned so I’d rather she had peace of mind.”

***

As a child, Stella had always been closer to her father than her mother. In fact, she had adored him and he had adored her. When he was diagnosed with stage four inoperable lung cancer, he refused any kind of life prolonging treatment, insisting that he wanted to spend the last weeks of his life with his girls, rather than attending countless appointments and taking medication that would make him feel lousy. He expressed his wish to die at home and so Stella and her mother, Maria, assisted by palliative care nurses, nursed him at home. Stella took time off school and spent the last two weeks of Edward Gibson’s life by his bedside, holding his hand until the very end.

After Edward’s funeral, Stella grew to detest her mother with every fibre of her being. She had never seen her vulnerability before and, looking back, she could see now that she had inherited her mother’s usually steely composure, though, she hoped, without her occasional cut-throat cruelty. Seeing Maria weep over Edward’s lifeless body and having to physically hold her up as they followed his coffin down the aisle of their local church, repulsed her. She struggled to understand her feelings of disgust at her mother’s grief, but nothing could compare to the loathing she felt towards herself.

Fourteen year old Stella kept her grief private. She didn’t cry after witnessing her father take his last breath, she didn’t cry when his body was removed from their house. She didn’t cry as she stripped the hospital bed, which had been loaned to them and placed in the living room when Edward could no longer climb the stairs. She didn’t cry at the funeral. Her grief was hers and became the catalyst of her self-inflicted destruction. The sacred time spent behind the closed door of her bedroom, when she allowed the sharpness of the compass she used in Maths lessons at school to glide across her upper thighs and soles of her feet, was her time to grieve.

Things improved between Stella and Maria once Stella moved away to start university. She came home at Christmas and for other special occasions and they slowly began to reconnect, though neither of them could linger on the topic of Edward for long, they began to understand each other once more.

Maria had taken to Scully before she had even met her. Hearing Stella attempt to repress the happiness in her voice as she told her about Scully over the phone for the first time was a revelation. The fact that Stella had met someone she wanted to share with her mother was an exceptional feat.

Maria knew that Stella had enjoyed many casual relationships with both men and women but had always kept her partners at arm’s length, and had never, under any circumstances, introduced anyone to Maria. Scully was the one exception. Stella’s mother immediately felt at ease with Scully and could see that her calm, tender nature was doing wonders for her only daughter, her only child. Of course, Maria had been happy when she was told that she was to be a grandmother. She was rendered speechless when Stella told her that she was carrying the baby. It was something she hadn’t ever dared to dream of.

***

“I’ll give her a ring later and let her know what the plan is,” Stella said as she loaded the dishwasher.

She began to straighten but immediately threw her hand out to grip the draining board as her back seized again, this time the pain radiated through her hips and wrapped around her stomach like an ever-tightening rubber band. Taken by surprise, Stella couldn’t hold back her involuntary gasp.

Scully whipped around and, immediately deducing what was happening, decided to keep her distance until it was over. She looked down at her watch and timed one minute and twenty seven seconds before Stella finally straightened.

“That was a long one,” Scully commented.

“What do you…how did you…?” Stella asked, too shocked to finish her sentence.

“That contraction you just had, it was the longest one yet.”

Stella looked at Scully, astonished.

“You’ve been having them for days, Stella, of course I’ve noticed, I’ve been timing them!” Scully chuckled.

“I didn’t know you’d rumbled me,” Stella said crossly.

“It’s not too difficult when you know what to look for. You’ve been handling them really well but they seem to have kicked themselves up a notch today. I know they’ve been worse than you’ve let on… why don’t you let me help you?”

Scully approached her and slid her arm around her waist.

“Please, let me help you,” she said.

“It would be nice to have someone to hold onto,” Stella conceded with a sigh, leaning into Scully. “How long do you think I’ve been having them?”

“You’ve been having the more serious contractions today, mild contractions for around a week-”

“A week! I’ve not been having them for a week!” Stella exclaimed, pulling back to look Scully.

“Deny it all you want, but what do you think’s been going on with your back? It’s not the extra weight, Stella, it’s the baby!”

“Shit,” Stella whispered, her mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape, lost for words. “Is that why you’re pushing this walk?”

“The gravity will encourage the baby to move deeper into your pelvis,” Scully said. “Plus, I want to enjoy this beautiful day with you.”

“I’d better put some shoes on then… or, rather, you’d better help me put some shoes on.”

Scully laughed as Stella gestured at the expanse of her stomach with a defeated sigh.

***

They walked hand in hand, slowly, around the breadth of the large lake at their local park. They stopped every eight to ten minutes so that Stella could hunch over, squeeze Scully’s hand and marvel, through pained huffs, that she couldn’t believe she was in labour.

“What if the baby doesn’t come until next week?” Stella grumbled as the peak of her latest contraction waned.

“I don’t think we need to worry about that,” Scully replied, encouraging her to carry on walking with a gentle pull of her arm.

“Can we go home?” Stella flitted. “I want to get on the floor.”

“Whatever you need, we’ll do,” Scully said as they set off.

They passed the playground full of screaming children, the graffitied skate park, numerous panting dogs.

“You can make yourself useful this afternoon and get any supplies we need from the supermarket. You are not sitting on the couch and staring at me… I already feel like a watched pot.”

“Whatever you say,” Scully agreed, feeling bursts of giddy fireworks erupting in her stomach. “We wouldn’t want you to boil over, would we?”

“That’s exactly what I want,” Stella countered. “I want to boil over and get this baby out of me.”


	6. Chapter 6

Scully’s heart hammered as she weaved through the unusually thick Sunday traffic. Her stomach was doing flips and her legs were jumpy on the peddles. This was it; they would have their baby today, or tomorrow at the latest. She had attended a countless number of births, delivered many babies herself, had birthed her own son, but she had never been on this side of it before. The anxiously excited partner determined to provide the best support they can.

She had spent half an hour in the supermarket, the weekend rush having died down by three o’clock, and had picked up enough to stock their cupboards for the next week so that she could focus on Stella and the baby, rather than dashing out for forgotten food items. It was busy on the roads and Scully briefly wondered whether there had been an accident.

Arriving home, Scully found Stella where she had left her, on her hands and knees, rocking through her contractions on the living room floor. She had drawn the curtains and turned the television off. Scully recognised the oversensitivity to light and noise, the way in which Stella couldn’t bare the sunlight or the drone of Sunday afternoon television in the background. She was starting to turn inwards to fully concentrate on the task at hand.

Scully loitered in the doorway for a moment and watched as Stella stilled her movements, lifted her head and pressed the “Stop” button on her contraction timer app. She then rested her cheek on the couch next to her phone.

Stella looked up at Scully.

“You were quick,” she commented.

“The store wasn’t busy,” Scully said, tilting her head and smiling at her. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Stella replied with a contented sigh. “They’re still around ten minutes apart but they’re creeping towards forty seconds in duration.”

“That’s good. You’re definitely, definitely in labour.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Stella grinned.

“I’ll put these away,” Scully said gesturing towards the shopping bags. “Then I’ll be right with you.”

“There’s no rush,” Stella said, crawling to the coffee table to take a sip from her glass of water.

After stocking their kitchen cupboards to bursting, Scully perched on the edge of the couch, next to the spot where Stella was leaning. Stella opened her eyes and smiled up at her.

“What’s that?” Scully asked, returning the smile and gesturing at the pen and notepad on the table.

“It’s a list of things to go in my hospital bag,” Stella answered. “I still haven’t packed it.”

“We didn’t expect you to be five days early,” Scully grinned. “There’s still time, though, don’t worry.”

“Mmm, I think this’ll taper off and I’ll still be pregnant next week.”

“I bet you won’t.”

Scully scanned the list and made a few additions, tilting the pad towards Stella when she lifted herself onto her knees to look. Stella read and nodded, agreeing with the extra items that had been added and returned to leaning on the couch. 

They remained in the living room for another hour, while the intensity of Stella’s contractions increased and became slightly closer together. She was happy to remain on the floor and appreciated Scully’s suggestion of putting pillows beneath her knees to protect them from the roughness of the carpet. The only thing that was required of Scully was her presence and her backrubs, their soft conversation between contractions occasionally punctured the silence as it began to go dark outside.

Eventually, Scully helped Stella off the floor and they made their way upstairs to pack her hospital bag. They’d had the baby’s first outfits picked out for weeks so quickly filled his or her bag and, after a gentle reminder from Scully that she wouldn’t immediately fit back into her pre-pregnancy jeans, Stella had packed everything she would need for at least a couple of nights in hospital and the journey home.

Reaching to fasten the clasp of her bag, she paused and inhaled sharply as she contracted. It started in her back and quickly coiled its way around to her lower abdomen, flitting through her uterus like a wave. Scully placed a firm palm in the centre Stella’s lower back and applied pressure as Stella winced through the peak, closing her eyes as the sensation built. She eventually expelled a long breath and straightened up, taking hold of Scully’s wrist.

“That was the strongest one yet,” Stella informed her.

“How do you feel?” Scully sympathised, her hand still on her.

“Okay, at the moment. It’s nothing I can’t handle for now.”

Scully kissed her cheek softly.

“I’m so proud of you,” she murmured into her smooth skin.

“As soon as this gets worse, you are driving me to the hospital and I am having the drugs. All of them,” Stella asserted.

“You can have whatever gets you through,” Scully chuckled. “In the meantime, you need to eat and then I think we should try to get some rest.”

Stella nodded and found herself swaying through her contractions in the kitchen, while Scully made them a pasta dish with vegetables on the side. By eight o’clock, they were side by side in bed, in the darkness of their room. Scully had taken over timing contractions on Stella’s phone when it became too much for Stella to coordinate, pressing “Start” upon feeling Stella’s grip on her hand tighten and then stopping the timer when the pressure slackened.

***

By nine o’clock, Scully was breathing steadily; asleep and unaware that Stella hadn’t returned from the bathroom for twenty minutes. Meanwhile, Stella was on the other side of the closed door of their ensuite, leaning over the toilet bowl, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand after having vomited harshly from the pain of her undeniably definite labour.

“Oh, fuck,” she groaned as she felt another tightening, not long after the last.

She open her knees as wide as she could get them and jammed a fist into her back as she puffed through the pain. It seemed as if they were getting worse each time, her body giving her minimal resting time in between now.

Stella knew she needed to get up and wake Scully, or even just call out her name, alerting her to her predicament. She needed to go to the hospital, there was no question, yet she couldn’t bring herself to move, to call out. Her body was urging her to keep low and bring everything down, down, down.

***

By half past nine, a deep, loud moan roused Scully. She lay still, listening, at first assuming she’d either dreamt it or it had drifted in through their open window. Extending her arm, expecting to find Stella next to her, she was met with the cool, unoccupied mattress on the other side of the bed. She turned on the lamp, registered the closed bathroom door and immediately knew something wasn’t right.

“Stella?” she called, getting up and crossing the room.

Reminiscent of the night before, she tentatively tapped on the varnished wood and, having received no answer, pulled the handle down and peered into the dimness of the bathroom.

“Stella,” she gasped, rushing in and immediately dropping onto the tiles next to her. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Everything,” Stella whimpered. “It’s too much.”

“Pressure?”

“Yeah!”

“We need to go to the hospital,” Scully said urgently.

“I can’t move,” Stella sobbed.

“It’s okay, I’ll help you,” Scully assured her.

“I can’t, Dana, I can’t get downstairs, I can’t sit in the car!”

Stella’s sobs had become closer to howls and her chest heaved as she began to panic.

“Stella, breathe with me,” Scully ordered, her voice steady and authoritative, knowing that they’d be in trouble if Stella started to hyperventilate. “Everything’s fine, you’re fine. This is normal.”

Stella’s breathing slid in time with Scully’s deep, steady breaths and Scully took her hand in hers as her mind raced to gain control of the situation, to formulate a plan.

“How far apart are the contractions?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Stella gasped. “They’re really close now… I wanted to wake you but I couldn’t speak… it’s happening too quickly!”

“It’s happening perfectly,” Scully insisted, knowing how vital it was to keep Stella as calm as possible. “Our baby just doesn’t want to wait, that’s all.”

“Oh, god! Here’s another one!”

Stella rose up and onto her knees, throwing her arms around Scully’s neck and growling into her hair. Scully held her in a high kneel and attempted to count the seconds, knowing that the longer contractions tended to occur as the next stage of labour approached. At the peak, Stella emitted a series of little grunts, sinking down as she did so. Scully closed her eyes and gave up on the counting. Pushing. Stella was pushing without even realising it. Listening to her tone return to a deep, primal moan, Scully knew it wouldn’t be long at all before Stella would feel the urge to actively push along with the contractions. There was no way they were going to make it to the hospital.

“That’s it, honey,” Scully encouraged. “You’re doing so well.”

She wrapped her arms around Stella’s waist and pulled her into a gentle sway as the pain released her and she relaxed into Scully’s arms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Contains graphic depictions of natural childbirth**

“Yes, I am a doctor, but I need to get her blue-lighted to a hospital,” Scully muttered into the phone. “Not long now… She’s emitting small pushes at the peak of the contractions but she doesn’t realise she’s doing it yet… No, her water hasn’t broken… I understand there was a serious accident earlier today, but my partner shouldn’t be put to the bottom of the list just because I’m a doctor… Yes… Yes… I understand, this isn’t your fault… Please, just try to get someone out to us as soon as you can… No, I don’t need you to talk me through it… Okay… Alright… Thank you.”

Scully ended the call and tucked her phone into her pocket with a sigh. She had managed to prise herself out of Stella’s grip to call an ambulance, knowing that it was more than likely that Stella would give birth at their home, but that the support of the paramedics and their medical supplies would make the process a lot easier.

“Stella,” Scully said, returning to Stella’s side in the bathroom.

Stella had moved from the floor and was now sitting on the toilet, her sleep shorts around her ankles, her face pressing into the crook of her arm, which was thrown over the edge of the bathroom cabinet next to her.

“Stell,” Scully tried again when Stella didn’t lift her head. “Listen, honey, the paramedics are coming but it looks like you’re going to have the baby here and I’m going to help you.”

Stella’s head shot up and her eyes widened.

“I don’t want you to panic,” Scully said before Stella could open her mouth. “Just listen to me and follow your body’s lead and everything will be fine.”

“I can’t do it, I need the drugs!” Stella exclaimed.

“You can do it, you’re already doing it,” Scully assured her. “We’re going to wait for the next contraction to pass and then I’m going to gather some things I’ll need for the delivery.”

“It hurts too much! I can’t do it!”

“You can and you are,” Scully said gently. “Even if we made it to the hospital, they wouldn’t give you the drugs at this stage anyway. You’re too far along now.”

Stella heaved an exasperated sigh and willed herself not to cry as another contraction swept her away and she threw her head back down. She emitted long, low sounds that she couldn’t comprehend as her own, yet the way in which they made the back of her throat vibrate confirmed that they could belong to no one else.

“Why am I mooing like a fucking cow?!” she demanded as she rocked herself from side to side.

Scully smiled discreetly.

“It’s normal, most women do when they birth naturally,” she said.

Scully allowed Stella to squeeze her shoulder with her free hand and counted six small grunts at the peak of this wave. When it was over, she slid out of her grasp and promised she would be as quickly as possible. Stella didn’t respond, didn’t even look up as Scully kissed the crown of her head before she left her side.

She opened the cupboard in the utility room and piled as many towels as she could into her arms, along with every washcloth they owned. Scully hurried back upstairs and into their bathroom, plonking them on top of the washing basket and rocking Stella through another contraction, five grunts this time, before retreating again after another kiss.

Scully’s hands were shaking as she dashed around, she steadied her breathing, knowing that she needed to be the calm one, to think rationally about what she was doing, to not lose her head. She retrieved and then poured a bowl of cold water and ice cubes into the bathroom sink, supported Stella through another contraction. Rushed downstairs to boil the kettle, filled half a mixing bowl with boiling water and topped it up with cold, returned to Stella’s side and took her into her arms once more. Six more grunts with this one. Scully jogged back downstairs, unlocked the front door for the paramedics when they eventually arrived, and tore through the house to the garage, where she picked up two buckets and some pegs, selected a pair of scissors from the kitchen draw and took a large, chilled bottle of water from the fridge.

She was at the bottom of the stairs when she heard Stella bellowing her name. Scully took two steps at a time, the buckets bumping bruises into her calves as she hurried through their bedroom.

“I’m here,” she announced over Stella’s cries.

She deposited the rest of the supplies, got down onto the tiles and moved to crouch between Stella’s spread knees, just in time to catch her as Stella threw herself forwards and jammed her chin into Scully’s shoulder, sobbing through the pain.

“I’ve got everything we need now, I’m with you,” Scully soothed. “I’m not leaving you again.”

Stella’s body was lathered in sweat, her hair pasted to the back of her neck. When she had made it through the latest contraction, with seven stuttered grunts, Scully eased Stella back and tied her hair up and out of her way. She reached for a washcloth and dipped it into the icy contents of the sink, before wringing it out and wiping Stella’s face, neck and chest with the cold fabric. Scully untangled the shorts from around Stella’s ankles, then pulled Stella’s sweat soaked t shirt over her head when she wordlessly lifted her arms, prompting her to do so.

“You’re doing so well,” Scully whispered, trying to catch Stella’s eye to coax out a response.

Stella shook her head wordlessly and planted both hands on Scully’s shoulders, resting her weight against her once more. Her eyes were wild and unfocused, her belly was tight between her parted thighs. Stella’s areolas had become enlarged and darkened as her pregnancy hormones had taken hold; her breasts were heavy with milk. To Scully, she had never looked more beautiful.

“Do you want to stay on the toilet?” Scully asked.

“I don’t know,” Stella replied hazily.

“That’s okay,” Scully assented. “Sitting on the toilet is a really productive position, we can stay here for as long as you’re comfortable.”

She blindly dipped into the sink with the cloth and placed it across the back of Stella’s neck, running her fingernails softly up and down Stella’s thighs as they waited for the next contraction.

Scully soon saw Stella’s stomach tighten and felt Stella clutch at the fabric of her t-shirt. However, this time, without knowing why, Stella leant back and made searing eye contact with Scully. Stella’s features contorted and she gave a surprised yelp as the two women heard the tell-tale pop and splash echo from the toilet bowl below.

“Your water broke!” Scully enthused, beaming up at her.

“Oh fuck!” Stella cried. “I need to… I…”

Her words were lost as her body fully seized and she gave her first active push, releasing a monumental grunt as she did so. Stella retained her frantic eye contact with Scully as she pushed again, unable to control the impulse to do so.

“That’s so good,” Scully encouraged. “You’re doing exactly what you need to do.”

“I can’t… stop… it,” Stella ground out.

“It’s okay, you’ll stop when the contraction stops, just ease into it.”

There was no easing required, Stella felt the unstoppable urge and she growled with it- the most primal impulse she had ever felt. The contraction eventually subsided and Stella leaned back against the wall behind her, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Scully peeled the washcloth from where it had slipped down her back and swirled it around in the sink.

“I want to get up, I can’t have the baby on the toilet,” Stella said, her exhaustion evident in her tone.

“Do you want to try standing?” Scully suggested.

Stella nodded wordlessly and grabbed Scully’s hands as she stood. She took two shaky steps to stand over the sink, slouching forwards and bracing herself on her elbows as she waited. Behind her, Scully draped the cool washcloth across Stella’s neck and encouraged her to take a drink of water.

“No!” Stella groaned as she felt the next wave building.

She pushed herself up from her elbows and backed into Scully.

“I can’t stand!” she shrieked, dropping to the floor and rocking on her hands and knees.

“It’s alright, Stella, do whatever you need to do,” Scully affirmed, joining her and applying pressure to Stella’s back as she began to push.

Scully used Stella’s change of position as an opportunity to check her progress. Immediately, she noted the prominent purple line along her natal cleft, indicating that she was fully dilated. Though Scully knew that even if she wasn’t, it would be near enough impossible to convince Stella to stop pushing.

Stella gave another groan and a push and slumped forwards as she was released, her forehead resting on the tiles, her behind up in the air.

“Shall we crawl towards the tub?” Scully suggested, rubbing the full length of Stella’s back. “You can lean over the edge while you’re resting.”

Unable to form an affirmative reply, Stella moved towards the side of the bath and draped herself over the rim, lifting her body into an almost completely vertical position. Scully placed two folded towels under Stella’s knees, though the discomfort of the hard floor was the least of her worries now, and positioned one of the empty buckets in the bath in front of Stella.

“Just in case you need to puke,” Scully answered Stella’s questioning look. “You’re doing so well.”

Scully kissed her salty shoulder as Stella reached back to take her hand.


	8. Chapter 8

**Contains graphic depictions of natural childbirth**

“Did I shit?” Stella asked bluntly after a push, looking down between her legs as Scully gathered something up in a towel and tipped it into the toilet, flushing quickly.

“It’s normal, everyone does it when they’re pushing, it just means you’re doing it properly,” Scully replied, unfazed as she spread a new towel between Stella’s knees. “It won’t be long before the head comes now.”

Stella nodded, calmness suddenly flooding her as Scully dimmed the lights and began to play Stella’s go-to “Ambient Relaxation” playlist through her phone.

“Do you want me to support your perineum?” Scully asked, taking advantage of the longer gap between contractions that Stella’s body was granting her.

Stella nodded and settled her head onto the towel on the bath’s side, while Scully soaked a fresh washcloth in the warm water of the second bowl. She folded it and pressed it gently onto the tender skin, keeping it in place with her palm.

“Is that too warm?” she checked.

Stella shook her head.

“The warmth is going to allow your perineum to soften and stretch around the head as it’s being born, we’re going to take it nice and slow,” Scully said softly. “I’m going to keep my hand here until the head’s out and then you’ll ease the shoulders through.”

Stella nodded again. It wasn’t long before her body stiffened and she resumed pushing with a harsh grunt. Rocking backwards towards Scully with every long push down and then forwards with every breath in.

“Good,” Scully soothed. “You’re so strong.”

Stella gasped as she pushed again and felt herself bulge as the baby became visible before the contraction released her and it retreated.

“I saw the top of the head that time,” Scully informed her. “You’re going to start crowning with the next one so when I tell you, you need to stop pushing and blow like you’re blowing out a candle. Big push, stop and blow when I tell you, then small pushes when I ask for them.”

“Yeah,” Stella breathed, hardly daring to believe it was nearly all over.

They didn’t have to wait long before Stella was bearing down in earnest, groaning with the effort. The top of the baby’s head slowly began to emerge and she howled at the burning sting.

“Stop pushing now,” Scully instructed, her tongue between her lips as she concentrated. “Start blowing that candle out.”

Stella whimpered and began to pant, struggling to resist the urge to push.

“You’ve got this, you’re so strong,” Scully reaffirmed.

She watched as their baby’s forehead gradually slipped into her waiting hand, stroking the soft, dark hair that adorned its head with her fingers.

“One tiny push for the eyes,” Scully requested over Stella’s heaving breaths.

Stella grunted lightly before resuming her gasps and Scully smiled as the top section of their baby’s face appeared, their eyes pressed shut and an unhappy frown adorning their minute features already.

“Another tiny one for the nose,” Scully said.

Stella winced as she ground out another push, before impressively regaining control of her breathing as the baby’s nose emerged.

“Another for the mouth.”

Stella moaned as the full pout of their baby’s lips appeared.

“If you still have a contraction, just give another small push for the chin.”

Stella pushed once more and released a long, relieved groan as their baby’s head was fully born, bringing with it a large gush of fluid, which Scully managed to masterfully dodge.

“The head’s out, honey, that was amazing,” Scully beamed, discarding the cloth she had been supporting Stella with and lightly stroked the baby’s grimacing face.

“Oh, god! It’s kicking me!” Stella cried, wincing.

“You’re okay… Touch our baby, Stella,” Scully encouraged.

Stella released one trembling hand from its vice-like grip on the porcelain of the bath and reached between her legs to take the fullness of their baby’s head in her palm.

“Oh my god,” Stella said with a sob.

“You’re amazing,” Scully whispered, kissing Stella’s hip.

Stella’s hand remained supporting the head, her thumb stroking through the damp hair, gently pressing into the tiny crevices of their soft, malleable skull. Scully gently checked and confirmed that she could see no cord, meaning that Stella could push down hard once again with her next contraction.

“It’s coming,” Stella huffed, regaining her two-handed hold on the edge of the bath.

“Okay, give a big, big push when you need to,” Scully urged.

“Oh fuck!” Stella grunted. “I need to get it out!”

“I’ve got you,” Scully confirmed. “Push hard, you’re safe.”

With a powerful roar, Stella pushed for the final time, her legs shaking uncontrollably as she expelled their child from her body.

“Oh, Stella! You did it!” Scully gasped, guiding the baby to the towel beneath them and slotting it between Stella’s open legs.

Stella began to slump against the bath, but Scully’s hands stopped her and encouraged her high onto her knees so that she could retrieve the baby. Stella lifted the wincing baby through her legs and onto her chest, before settling back into Scully’s arms.

“You did it,” Scully whispered in her ear, her head over her shoulder, their cheeks pressed together in the dim light of their bathroom.

The two women sobbed as they looked down at the squirming bundle in Stella’s arms. Scully gently rubbed the sole of a tiny foot and the baby let out a shriek at the stimulation.

“Oh my god,” Stella cried, blinking down at the baby. “You’re so beautiful.”

Scully helped Stella to reposition the baby so that the front of its body was pressed into Stella’s chest and it’s face looked downwards slightly to allow the fluid to dribble from its mouth and down Stella’s left breast, as the cries grew louder.

Scully reached behind her for a clean, warm towel and lifted one of the baby’s legs, momentarily prising its lower half away from Stella’s skin.

“Look,” she murmured in Stella’s ear, smiling.

Stella looked down.

“Oh, a girl!” Stella wept. “You’re a girl!”

Scully gently draped the towel over their screaming daughter and wrapped her arms around them both. Stella turned her head to face Scully, giving her a watery smile, her face red and salty with perspiration and tears.

“I love you,” Stella uttered.

“Not as much as I love you,” Scully countered with a kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

“That wasn’t bad at all,” Stella chimed, high on oxytocin. “I could do it again.”

Scully laughed, turning to look at Stella, who had returned to sitting on the toilet as she waited for their daughter to latch for the first time. Umbilical cord still attached and pulsating, she cradled the bundled baby to her chest and rocked slowly from side to side, grinning blissfully.

Scully stuffed the soiled towels into a large, black bin bag, deciding that they could do with some new ones anyway, and ensured that Stella’s path from the toilet to their bed was free of obstacles. She had removed the duvet cover and created a substantial support of pillows against the headboard after layering towels over their fitted sheet, though she knew that the mattress was more than likely to be ruined by the fluids and blood once Stella decided she was ready to settle on the bed anyway.

The strong, musky smell of birth filled the bathroom as Stella babbled happily and Scully cleaned up the best she could.

“Are you ready to move to bed?” Scully asked.

“Yes,” Stella answered, relieved. “My vagina… my _arse_ is killing me.”

Scully chuckled and kissed Stella on her plump lips.

“Keep a hold of the baby and take it easy,” Scully advised.

She supported Stella under her arms as she slowly rose from the seat of the toilet, cringing as she found her feet.

“You okay?” Scully checked.

“Yeah,” Stella hissed. “Everything’s just so sore.”

“It will be for a little while, I can examine you once the placenta comes if you like, but I don’t think you tore. You eased her out perfectly.”

Scully glowed with the pride she felt as she guided Stella through the bathroom and into the bedroom along the trail of towels she had purposefully set out to mark their way. A path of blood and fluids lay behind them as Scully helped Stella onto the bed and covered her with a large towel she’d had warming on the radiator.

“She’s around half an hour old, so the placenta shouldn’t be long now,” Scully told her, stroking the cheek of their now sleeping baby with her pointer finger.

“Is this bleeding normal?”

“Perfectly normal, it’ll lessen once the placenta is born.”

Scully smiled, attempting to exude certainty. She knew that the birth had been perfect, with Stella and their daughter exhausted but completely healthy. The final hurdle was the placenta, which ideally should be birthed within the hour after the baby. Scully hoped that the paramedics would arrive before the placenta, just in case Stella’s bleeding did increase or she retained part of the life-giving organ.

“Why don’t you try nursing her again?” Scully suggested. “I know she’s sleeping and wasn’t too keen earlier, but it’ll give you another oxytocin hit and stimulate more contractions.”

“Okay, let’s give it a go,” Stella hummed, unable to stop herself from grinning.

Scully climbed onto the bed and helped her to move the baby into position on her breast and guided Stella’s nipple into the baby’s mouth. They watched their daughter as her head bobbed around and she licked at the skin, staring up at Stella’s face.

“Come on,” Stella cooed. “You must be hungry, I’m starving.”

The baby girl whimpered in protest at the jostling and opened her mouth, beginning to root. They persevered until Stella’s eyes widened and she uttered a surprised “oh”.

“I think she’s doing it,” she whispered, biting her lip at the sensation. “It hurts.”

“It’ll get better,” Scully promised. “Just try to relax.”

Scully lay down and propped herself up on the pillows next to Stella and the baby and began to stroke Stella’s hair as they watched their daughter take her first feed, suckling greedily.

“I can’t believe a baby came out of me,” Stella marvelled.

“You were unbelievable,” Scully said, her eyes filling. “You were so brave.”

Stella turned her head towards Scully when she heard her voice crack and smiled as she felt herself well up. Scully cupped Stella’s cheek and kissed her lips tenderly, humming contentedly as Stella slid her tongue into her mouth. They kissed on the bed for a while, the baby tucked safely in their arms, noses bumping softly every so often, opening their eyes to smile at each other.

“Ugh,” Stella groaned, pulling away from Scully. “I think that did it.”

Scully placed her hand on the towel atop of Stella’s hardening stomach, feeling her contract.

“Give a push,” she directed, lifting the towel up to Stella’s hips and helping her raise her knees to peaks, her feet pressing into the mattress.

Scully gently pulled on the umbilical cord and, after a second push, Stella felt the placenta slide out and into the towel waiting in Scully’s hands. Scully carefully lifted it into one of the buckets and turned the lamp on, casting a light into the dim bedroom for her to examine by.

“I’m pretty sure it’s all here, nothing’s retained, but they’ll take a second look at the hospital to confirm,” Scully said as she moved it around in the bucket. “Wanna see?”

She turned to Stella hopefully, clearly fascinated by what she was looking at. Stella made a face as she peered into the bucket, pulling away quickly, much to Scully’s amusement.

Balancing the bucket on the bed, Scully moved back between Stella’s legs and, after a consensual nod from her partner, gently examined her, probing carefully with her fingers.

“This lighting isn’t great,” Scully said. “But I can’t see any tears or grazes. You will feel swollen and tender for a while, but that’s absolutely normal.”

“I feel huge down there,” Stella said. “When we were walking to bed, it felt as if my all organs were going to drop out.”

“It is a strange sensation, but it won’t last forever.”

Stella nodded, an amused smile dancing across her lips.

“Did you see what time she was born?” she asked, the thought suddenly occurring to her.

“It was around ten thirty,” Scully said, taking the now limp umbilical cord and rolling it between her fingers. “I didn’t get the exact time though, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, ten thirty sounds like a great time to be born,” Stella clucked down at their daughter, who was still suckling. “How much do you think she weighs? She looks pretty tiny to me.”

“She is teeny,” Scully agreed. “Maybe six and a half pounds. I think we can cut this cord now, Stella. It’s white, which means there isn’t any more blood transferring from the placenta to the baby.”

Stella nodded, stretching her legs out flat against the bed when Scully re-covered her with the towel on her way to retrieve the now sterilised scissors and pegs from the bathroom.

“I’ll still clamp the cord, just in case,” Scully said, getting back onto the bed.

She carefully unwrapped their baby, taking care not to break her latch as she continued to feed, and attached one of the pegs around two inches from her bellybutton and clamped another peg closer to the placenta. Scully wordlessly held the scissors out to Stella.

“Do you want to?” she asked.

“I want you to cut it,” Stella said. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Dana.”

Scully smiled, clearly delighted, and made easy work of snipping through the spongy connector.

“You’re free!” she laughed, helping Stella tuck their baby back into the towel.

“Now what?” Stella sighed.

“We wait for the paramedics,” Scully said, dropping the discarded cord into the bucket with the placenta and dumping the bucket on the floor at the end of the bed. “And think about a name.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Honestly, I can walk,” Stella protested. “There’s no need for this.”

The paramedics had arrived nearly an hour and a half after she had given birth. After being briefed by Scully and concluding for themselves that Stella’s bleeding was minimal and that she and the baby were perfectly healthy, Stella found herself being strapped into an aluminium chair and carried down the stairs of her home and out into an ambulance. Scully followed closely behind, hospital bag over her shoulder and their daughter wrapped up, sleeping snugly in her arms.

They transferred Stella from the chair and onto the stretcher in the back of the ambulance. She sunk into the back support and sighed as she was covered with a fleecy blanket, before one of the kind-eyed paramedics strapped her in.

***

Stella huffed uncomfortably as she sat in a waiting wheelchair at the entrance of the maternity ward. Scully gently placed the baby into her arms and gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m here,” she said softly.

Scully walked by her side as they were taken into a room where she filled a senior midwife in on the events of their evening, while Stella was helped into bed as the baby began to mewl hungrily. A younger midwife assisted her in getting the baby girl to latch and spoke to her kindly as Scully directed the senior midwife to the placenta they had left in the back of the ambulance.

“They’re going to assess you, get a pediatrician down to take a look at our little girl and then you’re both going to stay on the postnatal ward overnight,” Scully explained as the young midwife faded into the background.

Stella looked up at her with big eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said, her chin trembling as she suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.

“Hey, you’ve done the hard part,” Scully pointed out, stroking the back of their daughter’s hand as it rested on Stella’s chest. “You’ll go to sleep tonight and I’ll be here tomorrow to take you both home. There will be midwives on the ward to help you with… Elodie? …Grace? …Brooke?”

“Grace,” Stella decided.

Scully beamed.

“Grace Gibson-Scully,” Scully said.

“I love it,” Stella smiled, weaving her fingers through Scully’s.

***

Stella’s first night as a mother was long, exhausting, demoralising.

She said goodbye to Scully just before one o’clock on Monday morning and was settled into a bed on a ward with seven other women and their newborns. The young midwife stayed with her, helped her to organise her things, showed her where the bathroom was and rocked a fussy but tiny 6lb 2oz Grace for her while Stella took a shower. Before she left to return to the labour and delivery ward, the midwife made her some tea and toast and ensured that she had a jug of water and a cup at her bedside for during the night.

Then, it was just Stella, Grace and a room full of strangers. Grace had taken a big feed while they were waiting for the pediatrician and Scully had changed her nappy for the first time before they were transferred to the ward, yet the baby still fussed and screwed her tiny, red face up to demonstrate her displeasure. The adrenaline was wearing off and the exhaustion and pain had begun to wash over Stella as she cradled her baby, glancing self-consciously over at the other mothers. Some were asleep, their babies breathing softly in their plastic cots beside them, while others were comforting their own bundles, paying her no mind as she desperately tried to soothe her daughter.

After nearly an hour, Stella looked up and noticed that she was being watched. The woman in the bed directly opposite hers had just relaxed back into her pillows after settling her baby, a boy, as indicated by the bright blue balloon bearing the exclamation “It’s a Boy!” tied to his cot. The woman smiled sympathetically and climbed out of bed once more and crossed the floor to approach Stella.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked.

Stella nodded, tears springing to her eyes.

“Is this your first?” the woman continued.

“Yes,” Stella gulped.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it, the first night?”

Stella nodded again.

“I could take…”

“Her… Grace,” Stella confirmed, her voice wobbling.

“I could take Grace for a while,” the woman offered. “You look like you could do with some sleep.”

“W-would you?” Stella blinked, attempting to stem the flow that was threatening to flood from her tear ducts.

“Of course. Sometimes they just need to be held.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind. Besides, you’re better off giving her to me than the midwives, they’ll wake you every ten minutes and demand you feed her to get your milk in,” the woman said, rolling her eyes.

Stella smiled tearily.

“Thank you…”

“Beth,” the woman said.

“Thank you, Beth.”

Beth took Grace from Stella’s almost limp arms and sat down in the armchair next to her bed.

“What about your son?” Stella asked guiltily as she settled down onto her side, facing Grace and Beth.

“He’ll be fine,” Beth said, nodding towards her sleeping son. “He’s flat out so he won’t know I’m gone, and I’ve got three more at home so he needs to get used to the fact that he’ll never be the centre of attention.”

“He’s your fourth?” Stella asked in disbelief.

“He’s my fourth and last. I mean it this time,” Beth grinned.

The two women chatted quietly for some time, Beth bouncing a mellowing Grace in her arms as Stella’s eyelids got heavier and heavier.

***

She was awoken by a cry that seemed to travel straight down to her ear drum. Stella lurched awake and groaned in discomfort. She felt like she’d fought several world wars singlehandedly with the way her body screamed at her. She squinted down at the watch on her wrist. It was quarter past three in the morning. Beth was back in her bed, asleep, after having tucked Grace into her cot next to a then sleeping Stella.

“It’s okay,” Stella whispered. “I’m here, hold on.”

She sat up and gingerly swung her legs over the edge of her bed, her bare feet sticking to the cold floor as she stood and lifted Grace from her cot.

“What’s the matter?” Stella asked softly, smiling down at her. “How do I work out what to do with you?”

She decided to try all the obvious things first. She bounced Grace in one arm as they took a trip to the bathroom to fill the plastic bowl, which the helpful midwife from earlier had left for them, with warm water.

“Warm, not hot,” she told Grace as she walked them carefully back to bed.

With one hand, Stella arranged everything she would need to change her first nappy, before awkwardly spreading Grace’s changing mat out on the bed.

“Alright, we can do this,” she whispered.

Gently, Stella opened Grace’s nappy and found it to be wet. Grace squawked at the feeling of the cool air on her bare skin, followed by the sensation of the cotton buds dipped in warm water, which made her mouth open so widely as she wailed that Stella thought her daughter may be about to dislocate her jaw.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve nearly finished,” Stella hummed.

She patted her dry, secured the nappy successfully on her second attempt and clipped the bottom of Grace’s yellow sleep suit closed.

“That’s better, now. You’re all dry.”

Stella kissed Grace on her wrinkled little forehead and lifted the baby up and onto her shoulder, supporting her with her right hand as she tidied up the bed.

Stella pulled back the covers and positioned Grace for a feed as she wailed on. She didn’t latch straight away. Stella could see her rooting, feel her saliva coating her nipple and breast. Grace became redder and redder, louder and louder as her little arms and legs flailed in frustration. Just as Stella was beginning to feel self-conscious again, she felt the tell-tale tug as Grace finally achieved her goal and began to suckle.

“Oh, thank god,” Stella muttered, her head falling back onto the pillow, relieved.

For the first time since she and Grace had arrived over two and a half hours ago, the ward was silent. The other mothers and babies slept and, from her bed, Stella could see the midwives in the bay tapping away at their computers and drinking cups of tea and coffee as their night shift continued.

Stella retrieved her bag from the cabinet to her left and took out her phone. She had two text messages, both from Scully:

_“Just waiting for my cab, still in the carpark, thinking about you both and how much I love you. Thank you for our baby x”_

_“I’ll call Maria and my mom in the morning. I’m not willing to share you and Grace just yet x”_

Stella grinned, utterly besotted, and composed a brief update:

_“We’ve had a quick sleep, a nappy change and I managed to get Grace latched by myself this time. I can’t wait for you to take us home so we can do all of this together in our bed. Sleep tight x”_


	11. Chapter 11

Stella was glistening with tiredness as Scully practically skipped onto the ward the next morning, carrying Grace’s car seat. She quickly picked her out from the sea of other mothers and their newborns: black leggings, comfortable, oversized t-shirt and grey trainer socks, lying on top of the covers with Grace sleeping contentedly on her chest.

“Hi,” Scully breathed, leaning down to kiss Stella on the lips. “I missed you so much, I hardly slept.”

She stroked the back of Grace’s head and watched the baby suckle in her sleep even though she wasn’t feeding.

“We hardly slept either, but for an entirely different reason,” Stella said wryly.

“I felt terrible leaving you,” Scully told her. “But we’ll do it all together from now on. I’ve just spoken to one of the midwives and, once the pediatrician has done her rounds, I can take you both home.”

“I can’t wait, I miss our bed,” Stella sighed. “Do you want to hold her?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Scully said, taking Grace from atop of Stella and settling down with her in the armchair.

Apart from during their walk to and from the ambulance the night before, Scully was yet to hold her daughter. Their late arrival at the hospital meant that she was unable to stay and bond with Grace as she would have if Stella had delivered there. She settled the sleeping baby onto her chest and inhaled her intoxicating newborn scent, running her nose through Grace’s thick, full head of dark hair, watching the way in which she clenched her small fists and occasionally stretched out her legs as she dreamed. Stella had dressed her in a green romper with a koala on it, complete with socks and a hat with ears, which was on Stella’s pillow.

“You’ll have to do some skin to skin with her when we get home,” Stella said.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Stella reached for her phone and snapped a few pictures of Scully and Grace in the chair, realising that, apart from a set that Scully took of her and Grace while they waited for the ambulance, they had very few photographs of their baby’s first twenty four hours so far.

“The woman in the bed opposite, Beth, she helped me last night,” Stella admitted. “It was a couple of hours after you’d gone and Grace hadn’t stopped crying and I didn’t know what to do.”

“That was nice of her,” Scully said, tearing her eyes away from Grace and watching as Beth and her new baby were swarmed by her three older sons, while her husband beamed proudly and took pictures with his phone. “What did she do?”

“She just held her for me so I could get some sleep,” Stella said. “I was able to return the favour and did the same for her at around six.”

Scully grinned, her eyes twinkling.

“I know I keep saying it, but I couldn’t be prouder of you if I tried,” she said. “Speaking of, I called both our mothers earlier and, dare I say it, they’re elated by our news.”

“Really?” Stella’s eyebrows shot up.

“Really,” Scully echoed. “Especially Maria. I told her the circumstances in which Grace was born and she was speechless. She’s agreed to drive up tomorrow rather than today, so we can get settled in at home and you can get some rest.”

“Mmm, that’s good. It’ll be interesting to see her, actually, she didn’t even see me pregnant… How was Maggie when you called?”

“Quiet at first… You know how she feels about all of this. Us, the IVF… but after our phone call, I sent her some pictures of Grace and when she called me back, it sounded like she was crying, it was as if she finally realised she’s real.”

“That is something,” Stella mused.

Through the events of the last twenty four hours, Stella had almost forgotten about Maria and Maggie. Ironically, the time she had spent throughout her pregnancy worrying about seeing them after Grace had been born seemed irrelevant because now she couldn’t tear her heart away from Grace and Scully long enough to dread the presence of her mother and mother-in-law, or care what they thought.

“She loves you though, Dana,” Stella said softly. “I know it doesn’t always seem that way, but you are her daughter and you’ve given her a granddaughter and, despite her set of beliefs, her love for you, and now Grace, will always be stronger.”

“I hope you’re right,” Scully said, resting her cheek on Grace’s head.

“I know I am,” Stella insisted.

***

“You both seem to be getting the hang of that now,” Scully commented as Stella fed Grace on their bed.

“Got her on the first attempt this time,” Stella said proudly as Scully joined them. “I can’t wait for my milk to come in, it’ll be so much easier and I’ll feel better knowing that she’s actually getting a substantial meal.”

“She’s constantly attached to you so it won’t be too much longer,” Scully said, nuzzling into Stella’s arm. “Her bath’s ready when you are.”

“You mean when she is. Our days of doing things in our own time are long-gone,” Stella said with a raised eyebrow.

Scully nodded, smirking into Stella’s smooth skin.

They slowly moved into the bathroom when Grace removed herself from Stella’s breast and began to snuggle sleepily into her chest.

“She’s not going to like this, is she?” Stella asked from her place perched on the toilet seat, feeling too tender to kneel.

“Not at all. First baths aren’t renowned for going well,” Scully chuckled.

Stella watched as Scully slowly lowered Grace into the shallow water, towards her turquoise bath seat. Grace’s wrinkled, pink face, which was already crumpled from the intrusion of the slightly cool air on her bare skin, contorted as she felt the warm water tickle her toes.

“I know,” Scully cooed, as Grace let out a startled squeak as her lower body was gradually submerged. “There, that’s nice and warm, isn’t it?”

Grace’s blue eyes shot open as she was inserted into her chair and Scully used her palm to scoop careful handfuls of water over her torso. She whimpered, she whined, she grizzled at the sensation, gradually working herself up to wail as she squirmed in displeasure.

“I know, it’s nearly over” Scully continued, massaging her fingers gently into Graces scalp to remove the dried blood and vernix from her hair.

Softened by her raging hormones and a flood of love for her daughter, Stella grimaced as she knelt by the bath. She took one of Grace’s little fists between her fingers and felt her daughter immediately coil her hand around her ring finger and dig her pointy little nails into her skin, holding on for dear life.

Scully grinned at her.

“The last time you were kneeling here, you were pushing her out,” she reminisced.

“Mmm,” Stella winced at the memory. “I definitely prefer bath times.”

Grace’s wails had become screams by the time Scully had wiped around the stump of her leftover cord and lifted her out of the bath. She carefully folded her into a towel and carried her to their bed to dry her properly, while Stella eased herself off the floor and followed behind closely. Stella watched as Scully tenderly dried their daughter and fastened her nappy.

“I think I want to lie with her for a while before we get her dressed, if that’s okay,” Scully said, looking at Stella.

“Of course it is,” Stella confirmed, holding Grace as Scully propped herself up against the headboard and removed her t-shirt.

Stella carefully lay Grace down onto Scully’s chest, covering them with a blanket, and the two women laughed as Grace instinctively began to root, grunting in frustration when she encountered the lace of Scully’s bra, rather than her desired destination.

“She can’t be hungry,” Stella whined as she slipped under the covers and propped her head on Scully’s shoulder. “I’ve _just_ fed her.”

“I think she’s alright,” Scully said as Grace settled, her eyes fluttering closed. “You were just trying your luck, weren’t you, honey?”

“It’d be nice if you could feed her too, my tits need a break already.”

Scully giggled.

“I would if I could,” she said.


	12. Chapter 12

“Oh, shit,” Stella cursed as she was woken from her nap by an unbearably loud ringing. “Fucking fuck!”

She reached around, trying to find the source of the irritating noise, and eventually grabbed her phone from Scully’s bedside table. Looking down at the screen, she was startled to see that Maggie was attempting to FaceTime her.

“Oh, shit!” Stella repeated, hauling herself into an uncomfortable seated position and combing through her hair with her fingers before she answered with a nervous “Hello?”

“Oh, Stella!” Maggie exclaimed. “Sorry to disturb you, I was expecting Dana.”

Stella squinted, confused, until she realised she had mistaken Scully’s phone for her own and had read “Mom” as “Maggie”.

“Maggie… I’m sorry, I grabbed Dana’s phone by accident and misread your name. I’m sorry, I’m a little tired today… Dana’s in the shower but I’ll ask her to call you back when she’s finished.”

“That’d be great,” Maggie said, tilting her head as she took in Stella’s unusually dishevelled form. “How are you doing?”

“Me? Oh, I’m fine…Fine, just tired...”

“You look more than tired, Stella… and it’s no wonder. Dana tells me you had quite the night last night.”

“Yeah,” Stella smiled wearily. “It was eventful to say the least.”

Grace stirred in the Moses basket, emitting the range of mewls and grunts that Stella was slowly getting used to.

“Is that her?” Maggie asked. “Is that Grace?”

“Uh, yes, it is,” Stella confirmed, leaning over to rock the tiny basket as the baby snuffled.

“Can I… would you mind showing her to me? I mean, Dana has sent me pictures but it’s not the same as… you know…”

“Okay,” Stella said slowly. “Hold on for a second while I get her.”

Stella placed the phone down on top of the duvet cover, giving Maggie a view of the white ceiling of their bedroom, and scooped Grace out of her Moses basket. She kissed her cheek and plumped a pile of pillows behind her so she could relax back, attempting to position the baby to give Maggie the best possible view of her granddaughter. Stella pulled the front of her vest top up as far as she could, having just realised she had been displaying a generous amount of cleavage, not yet accustomed to managing her fuller breasts.

She took a deep breath as she reached for Scully’s phone and arranged it so that she could clearly display an unusually calm Grace, who stared back at her grandmother on the screen, eyes like globes.

“Oh, there she is,” Maggie gasped.

“This is Grace in real-time,” Stella said softly, gripping one of her daughter’s tiny thighs in her free hand, her arm coiled around to support her body, Grace’s head propped up on her shoulder.

“She’s beautiful, so… dainty.”

“She is, she’s impossibly tiny. There aren’t many of her newborn clothes that fit her yet, most of them are too big so we’re having to roll the sleeves up,” Stella told her.

She watched as Maggie’s features worked through an array of emotions, her eyes wide and glassy as she took in the scene in front of her.

“Thank you, Stella,” she finally said. “Thank you for my granddaughter.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Stella said. “We would love it if you came to visit soon… because I- I know this isn’t what you imagined her life would be like, but Dana loves you very much, Maggie, and we both want you to be a big part of Grace’s life.”

Maggie nodded and cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable.

“…I’ll …speak to Dana about booking the flights…” she trailed off.

Stella supressed a frustrated sigh, blinking away the tears that had uncharacteristically sprung to her eyes. She silently cursed herself for hoping that Maggie would acknowledge the significance of her daughter’s relationship with her, after thinking that, now they had a baby, Maggie would finally be able to see what they had as something more than a phase in Scully’s life that she would eventually move on from. Something other than an embarrassment and a source of unease. She worried about how she would even begin to go about explaining it all to Grace one day.

“Well, like I said, I’ll tell Dana you wanted to speak to her and I’ll get her to ring you back as soon as she can,” Stella said.

“Oh, okay,” Maggie said, awkwardly. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Stella hung up first and tossed the phone to the end of the bed in irritation. Grace looked up at her, searching her mother’s face.

“It’s going to be okay,” Stella promised her, tracing her barely-there eyebrows with her finger.

***

“I think she’s here,” Stella chirped, jumping up from her chair, banging into the table with her thigh as she did so.

“Take it easy,” Scully requested, watching Stella rub the sore spot anxiously, knowing that there would be a large, purple bruise beginning to form there.

“I’m fine,” Stella dismissed, hurrying out of the kitchen.

The bell rang just as Stella reached the front door. She flung it open immediately, startling Maria as she stood on the doorstep: five foot two inches tall, blonde and impossibly slim, just like Stella.

“Mum,” Stella breathed, taking her in.

“Stella,” Maria emulated her greeting. “You look great, darling.”

“Thank you…come in.”

Stella stood back to allow Maria to pass her.

“She’s just in the living room,” Stella said, before leading her straight through to where Grace was sleeping in her pram.

“Here she is,” Stella said as they approached.

“Stella, she’s beautiful,” Maria gasped. “She looks like you did when you were born.”

“Does she?” Stella asked.

“She really does. It’s remarkable.”

“You can pick her up if you want to,” Stella suggested, her own hands shaking at the immediacy of it all.

They had spoken briefly over the phone the night before, where Maria had asked a few tentative questions about Grace’s birth and they had arranged a time for her to arrive. Stella had been awake with the baby through most of the night but even when Grace was sleeping soundly next to her, she still tossed and turned, the anticipation of her mother’s arrival weighing heavily on her mind.

Maria cupped the back of Grace’s head and cradled her into her body, staring down at the sleeping baby’s perfect features.

“I can’t believe it,” Maria marvelled.

Stella’s eyes pooled as she watched her mother rock Grace, whispering gently down to her granddaughter and patting her little bottom as she did so.

“Your father would be so proud,” Maria said, her voice wobbling precariously.

Stella nodded, blinking rapidly as she swayed in perfect synchronicity with Grace and Maria, her arms crossing her middle as if she were protecting herself.

“How are we doing?” Scully asked appearing from the kitchen and placing a gentle hand on Stella’s back when she reached her side.

Stella smiled at her appreciatively, knowing that Scully had hung back to give them space, yet still managed to choose the perfect moment to join them.

“Dana,” Maria gulped, clearing her throat and securing Grace in one arm while she hastily wiped her eyes. “How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you,” Scully said, warmly. “Would you like a drink, Maria? Tea, coffee?”

“A black coffee would be lovely. No sugar,” Maria requested.

“No problem,” Scully smiled, noting that this was Stella’s pre-pregnancy choice as well. “I’ll make you a tea, Stella.”

Stella nodded and, with a comforting squeeze of her hip, Scully retreated.

“Let’s sit down,” Stella suggested, having composed herself.

They moved to the couch and laughed as Grace began to lightly snore.

“Does she sleep well?” Maria asked.

“She does in the daytime,” Stella said wryly.

“She clearly takes after you in many ways, then,” Maria smiled. “You were a little night owl when you were growing up.”

“I still am.”

“It’s different when you have a little one up with you though, isn’t it?”

“It is, but Dana was amazing last night, she was up with me for every feed. I barely had to move.”

“That’s good,” Maria nodded. “How long is her parental leave?”

“Two weeks, but she has some annual leave saved up so she’s going to take the first month off.”

“How long are you going to take?”

“Six months,” Stella said. “I think a year would be too long and, obviously, I didn’t know if I’d have to have a caesarean so twelve weeks may not have been enough recovery time if there were extreme complications.”

Maria smiled knowingly, Stella had always been prepared for every eventuality, even as a child.

Scully soon joined them and they chatted on the couch for hours, Stella and Maria passing Grace between them as and when she needed feeding.

Eventually, it was time for Maria to drive back down to Devon, a meeting the following morning rendering her unable to stay at one of the hotels nearby.

“You were brilliant with her,” Scully said, pressing a kiss into the side of Stella’s head as they watched her drive away. “Let’s go inside and I’ll make us some dinner.”

***

The park was practically deserted the following morning: a cool Spring Wednesday. The sun was half-risen and a few keen joggers passed them, smiling into the pram at Grace. Stella and Scully had a long stretch of the lake to themselves; they strolled along the sandy path and breathed in the freshness of the water. 

“We walked here when I still wasn’t fully convinced I was in labour,” Stella remembered.

“We did. You doubled over right next to that tree and asked me if we could go home,” Scully grinned.

“You know, I visualised this while I was pushing. Imagining taking our baby on their first walk around this lake got me through.”

“Hmm,” Scully hummed. “That hypnobirthing book wasn’t all bad, was it?”

“Most of it was, some of it wasn’t,” Stella acquiesced.

Scully laughed and linked her arm through Stella’s as she pushed the pram, their daughter sleeping soundly beneath her white, knitted shawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, it's finally finished! I just need to say thank you to everyone who has read my first Stella/Scully and has taken the time to leave a comment- your support has made writing this so enjoyable.
> 
> There will be a little sequel, but it's still not finished- we've been rushed off our feet at work over these past few weeks so I've taken on some extra shifts and have been finding it difficult to find time to concentrate on writing.
> 
> I also have a prequel on the go too but have been experiencing MAJOR writer's block. Drop me some early (before baby) Stella/Scully prompts on my Tumblr: https://palepinkpores.tumblr.com/ and I'll use these to help me push through and get into the flow of writing again.
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for sticking with this and hopefully I'll have something else for you soon!


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